


Arthur Morgan Ain't so Strong After All

by Foreverwholockedme



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Bisexual Arthur Morgan, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Love, Young Arthur Morgan, Young John Marston, little brother john
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2019-10-25 20:05:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17731763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foreverwholockedme/pseuds/Foreverwholockedme
Summary: A few short stories about a young John Marston seeing his big brother Arthur Morgan cry.





	1. Chapter 1

Dutch had been yelling at Arthur something  _fierce_  since early this morning, I thought that as I sat in our tent, listening to Dutch bark at Arthur for what seemed like the millionth-time today. I learned that whenever Dutch was in a mood like that, I should stay in my tent until it passed. Arthur, however, he weren’t so lucky. He never was much of a lucky feller I guess. Arthur’s the oldest, by ten years, he’s a damn geezer compared to me and I ain’t even fifteen yet! But that’s why Dutch yelled at him so much, I guess. 

I ain’t hear the exact reason, but in the morning I heard something about some ruckus in the town just five minutes from us. Dutch and Hosea just pulled a job in that town, so we had to be careful for a bit, at least, that’s what they been saying to me, I do not even go in that damn town. Arthur does though. He sneaks off in the night to go to that saloon I ain’t old enough for. The bastard don’t even bring me back nothing! He sneaks off last night like he thought I weren’t awake, but I guess Dutch and Hosea were awake too and saw him riding his horse out of here. 

He stopped yelling, but I do not know if I wanted the silence either. I was waiting for Arthur to come stomping back in, and he did come in to our tent, but he weren’t stomping. He’s a big feller but he could be as quiet as a mouse when he wanted to be. I think he told me once it was cause of his dad, but he ain’t say much more about it. He ain’t say much when he came back in the tent neither. 

“What you doin’ awake so early, John? You know you gotta sleep else you ain’t gonna grow no more.” 

He was being an ass, as per usual. He knew ain’t nothing scared me more than not being tall. I had goals of being as big as him! 

He was also trying to distract me. I ain’t so smart as him, but I know that much. 

“Can’t sleep if Dutch’s barking like that. He sounds worse than Copper.” 

Arthur was in the process of taking his shirt off. Looked like he was about ready to go to bed. It was about to hit noon. He stopped when I spoke. He looked sad when I said that. 

“I’m sorry, John. He just…he just a little angry is all. From lack of sleep, and planning for the next job and such.” 

I don’t know why he is lying to me. Even the townsfolk can hear Dutch cursing Arthur’s name. It ain’t right. 

“So why ain’t he yelling at Hosea? I only heard your name from out his mouth, Arthur.” 

Arthur ain’t like it much that I did that. I poke a lot, asked him too many things, but he says my fingers is too bony and he don’t like all them questions. I like all them questions because I like talking to him.

“You smell like whiskey.” 

“Oh and I suppose you know what whiskey smells like, huh kid?” 

“First off, I ain’t no kid–” 

He is trying to distract me again. I truly hate that it works so well each time. I take a deep breath, Arthur taught me that when I get too worked up for words, and I start speaking calm again. 

“It’s just…I know you been sneakin’ out to go to that saloon. I know you go every night.” 

Arthur’s eyes got big and he closed the flap of the tent. He knelt down to me. 

“Don’t say that so loud you idiot! Dutch only caught me the once, he ain’t know about all them other times and he ain’t need to know now.”

That’s when I realized that Arthur had a shiner that’d rival the best jewelry. 

“You got into a fight.” 

His hand went up to his right eye before he yanked it back down to his side. He ain’t say nothing to me. He just got back up and quietly kept taking his clothes off. 

“It weren’t Dutch…that hit you…was it?” 

For a moment I thought Arthur was about to knock me upside my head with how angry that made him, but then he sighed and it was like nothing. He shook his head. I hope he weren’t lying. Dutch ain’t seem like the type, but I’ve only been with these three for little under two years now, and Arthur always just seemed…sad. 

“…Dutch…he been yellin’ a lot lately, right?” Arthur looked at me real careful. Like he felt bad. Like it were his fault. 

“Yeah, he been yellin’ at you.” 

I had to ask him. 

“You okay, Arthur?” 

“Yes.” 

“…You said that too fast.” 

“Just go back to sleep, John, please. I’m tired as all hell right now, I don’t got it in me to argue with two of my folks right now.” 

He was getting worked up again. 

“I ain’t tired.”  

“No…no of course you ain’t.” 

“I was just asking if you was alright, Arthur.” 

He walked over to his bed and laid down in it. He let out a heavy breath and said, “I just need a little sleep is all.” 

He did sound tired, and sad, and angry. But everyone who knew him, learned that he was always these three things. It ain’t my heart hurt any less to think about it, though. I’m thirteen, Arthur’s only twenty-three. That’s old, but ain’t that old. Dutch treats him like he’s older than that. Much older. Arthur don’t have much time to himself on account of Dutch working him like a mule. He always got Arthur beating people up, shooting people, robbing people. But sometimes, sometimes Arthur tells me that sometimes he just wants to draw while looking at the lake behind the camp. Sometimes he just wants to pet his horse and play with Copper. 

But Dutch yells at him if he says he ain’t feeling up to it. So Arthur don’t got much choice but to do what Dutch says, and he keeps them tired, sad, and angry eyes for a little longer. Well I ain’t tired, but I’m sad and I’m angry, so I leave the tent. Hosea gives me a warm good morning but I see him marching off towards Dutch’s tent and I know Dutch is about to get an earful and that makes me smile. I call Copper over to me and we walk to the lake. It is a rather pretty lake, don’t know what makes it so pretty that Arthur just sits here and draws all damn day and night, I’d surely get bored of just staring at water. 

But I got to thinking about Arthur again and how he had a black eye and smelled like whiskey, so Dutch yelled at him. I thought about Dutch yelling at him all damn week, and then I thought about Arthur being alone. I ain’t like being alone when my pa went on his drunk rants, Dutch weren’t drunk, but I reckon Arthur felt sorta the same just now. I shouldn’t leave him alone. He ain’t never done that to me, nightmares and all. So I get Copper and we go back to the tent. I heard a sound, I ain’t ever heard no sound like it before. 

Arthur Morgan. My big brother. He was  _crying._

I ain’t say nothing. I did not know what to say. He would’ve gotten mad if I spoke, would have yelled at me and told me get lost or something. It is what he should have done but he didn’t. He just kept crying, making those sad sounds and I wondered if Dutch could hear him. 

I told Copper to shush, and he sat at the foot of Arthur’s bed while I climbed on. Arthur is far from dumb, he could feel me getting on his bed and I braced myself in case he would shove me off. He ain’t do it. His back was bare, he had no shirt on. It was warm and a little sweaty from the heat. I laid my head on his back and I started to rub his shoulder carefully. We ain’t talk. Arthur just cried and I gave him a little comfort until he fell asleep. It ain’t matter to me that he snuck off to a saloon, or that he had a black eye. I just wanted him to feel okay, even for a little bit. I worried about him, but Arthur does not let anyone worry about him. 

After he went to sleep I went over to my bed. I ain’t want to leave him alone and Hosea wanted me to read some new book he stole, it is a good time to read it. Something clinked when I sat down. It was under my pillow. I lifted up the pillow and I could not help but smile. 

Arthur snuck me a bottle of whiskey. 


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur tends to be a quiet feller. First few days after Dutch got me, I got to chatting with Arthur. At least, I tried to get to chatting but there weren’t much talk going on. He would just grunt or say “sure”. I ain’t like talking to him very much when we first met. He would talk to Hosea and Dutch fine, but only if one of them talked first. 

 

But one night, we were getting ready for bed. I ain’t eat much that day, just forgot to. Arthur was already lying in his bed, but he weren’t sleeping. I suppose it ain’t matter neither because my stomach growled loudly, he heard it, I know he did. Not too long after, I heard him moving around and a large hand shaking my shoulder. 

 

“What you want?” 

 

“You ain’t eat nothing?”

 

I just looked at him. It was pretty dark so I couldn’t tell if he was poking fun or if he was really concerned for my well-being. I nodded and he sighed. He pulled me out of the bed and we started walking to the food wagon. I just stared at Arthur while he fussed around in the crates and food storage. He silently walked over to the fireplace behind the wagon and started a fire with a flick of a match. 

 

“Is some grilled salmon okay?” 

 

At the sight of the fish my stomach growled again. He laughed a bit.

 

“Oh shut up! I’m starving.” 

 

His stupid smile ain’t go away, but I guess it were nicer than that mean mug he always wearing. 

 

“Ain’t my fault you too stupid to remember to eat, John.” 

 

I started to stand to storm back to our tent. He groaned. 

 

“Sit down, John, I was just joking with you!”

 

“Jokes are supposed to be funny you idiot!” 

 

He threw his hand up like he were surrendering to the law. I was getting mad because he weren’t saying anything. Again. 

 

“Alright, alright fine. I’m sorry, okay?” 

 

Truth be told I don’t think I was really that mad. I think that I just wanted him to keep talking to me.

“You promise?” 

 

“Sure, now shut up before Dutch and Hosea hear us!  You know Dutch gets cranky without his beauty sleep.” 

 

He was right about that, so I sat back down and tried to stay quiet for a while. We ain’t hear nothing from their tent so we figured we was safe. The sound of salmon cooking made me jump a bit. Another laugh from Arthur Morgan. 

 

“Don’t worry it’s just a salmon, John. I know how scared you get around water, so I’ll apologize on behalf of this fish for your troubles.” 

 

“If you weren’t making my food right now, I’d kick your ass, Arthur Morgan.” 

 

“If I weren’t, you still wouldn’t do shit, John Marston.” 

 

“You sure do got jokes.” 

 

He flipped the piece of fish. 

 

“Sure.” 

 

I watched the salmon cook and my stomach cramped just thinking about eating it. I looked over and I could just tell that Arthur could sense my lack of patience for my food. I ain’t really care and I guess it ain’t bother him that much because it got real quiet again. I could hear the crickets in the patch of grass nearest us. I guess my mind went listening to them because Arthur shoved a plate of beans and salmon in my face. 

 

“You better eat all of it, else I’m gonna punch you if your belly rumbles like that again, you hear?” 

 

To be honest, I ain’t hear him. I just smelled beans and salmon and my mind went blank. I was already tearing into it by the time he finished the sentence. I only stopped to nod, and then went right back to it. 

 

“How  _ you  _ forget to eat anyway? You always the first one to the camp stew, hell, we know the damn food’s ready the way you fly to the pot.” 

 

“Sometimes I just do.” 

 

Arthur nodded like he understood, and I was nearly finished with my food. 

 

“You alright?” 

That was the first time he asked me that. I ain’t know how to respond at first. I had a mouthful of beans, I nearly choked. After I finished chewing I nodded. 

 

“I’m fine. Just hungry.” 

 

He laughed again but this time I weren’t so mad about it. 

 

“Yeah, well, hopefully that’s changed now.” 

 

“Thanks to you, Arthur.” 

 

He shrugged off the compliment. He ain’t good at taking those, but I tried anyway when I could. I let some more time pass before I said what I really wanted to. 

 

“Are you okay?” 

 

He got  _ real  _ sad for a moment before it was like there was nothing wrong again. I do not know much about Arthur’s past and what he must have gone through before Dutch and Hosea got him, but sometimes I can hear him have nightmares while we sleep. I do not know how he was always so quiet about them, I could tell they scared him something awful by the way he would breathe when he woke. Some nights he cried too. He would do it quietly as not to wake anyone but I heard him. 

 

“Why do you care?” 

 

I blinked. I had completely forgotten I asked him something. 

 

“Why do I care?” 

 

“You a parrot or something?” 

 

“Arthur, I care because I know you ain’t eat nothing either and you ain’t even fix yourself a plate of food. My pa used to do that. He wouldn’t eat for a bit, and then one day he would come downstairs and eat near every scrap he could get.” 

 

“I ain’t your pa, Marston.” 

 

“No you ain’t because my pa would have eaten something by now! You ain’t eat nothing but a can of peas earlier today.” 

 

He turned to me and he looked like he was about ready to throttle me. He breathed real hard a few times and then let out another long breath. I weren’t about to let him win so easily. Just because he is bigger than me don’t mean I can’t hold my own. He grumbled, sounded like a bear sometimes. 

 

“If I eat some of this damn food will you leave me alone?” 

 

“I ain’t gonna leave you alone, but I’d be quieter.” 

 

That was enough for him. It usually was. Arthur was a man who greatly appreciated his quiet time, but he ain’t have to be alone each time he wanted quiet. He went to the fire and served himself a smaller portion. He took a bite, it ain’t look like the food interested him much. 

 

“There, you happy?” 

 

“Are you?” 

 

“Just dandy, look, if you done eating then get your ass back to sleep. Dutch’ll kill me if he sees us up this late.” 

 

“You ain’t the boss of me.” 

 

“Not to you, but I’m older than you and so Dutch has given me the glorious burden of nursemaid to one little John Marston. So if you ain’t in bed, and I’m sitting right here next to you, who you think will get chewed out?” 

 

“I suppose you’re right.” 

 

Some more silence. 

 

“Guess it’s hard being a big brother, ain’t it?” 

 

“We ain’t blood, Marston. Dutch calls me his son, that don’t make it true.” 

 

“That don’t mean you ain’t wish it true, Morgan.” 

 

“There are a lot of things I wish were true.” 

 

I got him talking again. Maybe he was lonelier than I had originally thought. 

 

“I reckon there ain’t really much wrong with that. To wish Dutch had been your pa instead of your real one. He was bad, wasn’t he?” 

 

“Sure. The world is better for his leaving, but I sure ain’t one to talk. The apple don’t fall too far from the tree, I guess.” 

Arthur was always talking bad about himself. I figured, if you always talk mess about yourself then you start to feel as bad as you think. Well he’s a pain in my ass but he ain’t as bad as he thinks. 

 

“What if the apple rolls down a hill?” 

 

“What are you on about?” 

 

There was laughter in his voice. He may think I’m speaking nonsense, but I just want to hear him laugh some more. 

 

“Well you say the apple ain’t too far from the tree. If you get to thinking, and you think about the tree. My tree’s on a hill so if an apple falls, it just rolls down the hill and I don’t think it matters too much what that tree was like no more.” 

 

I could see him thinking about it. People liked to call him dumb but everyone who knew him, knew that weren’t quite true. So I kept talking, and he kept smiling.

 

“The apple don’t matter to much to me neither, where it came from and such. An apple’s an apple, Arthur, I’ll eat it no matter what!” 

 

We both laughed a little louder than we should have. Hosea poked his head out from his tent and put a finger to his lips. We was both still laughing, but we said our quiet apologies, he smiled and then went back to bed. 

 

“Rather him than Dutch.” Arthur mumbled. I ain’t say nothing for a bit, but I noticed that Arthur helped himself to another serving of food. I could not help but smile to myself. 

 

“You know when Dutch first bought me back here, I already told myself that I was about to be bored stiff, being around two geezers all the time. But then you rode into camp and we met and I thought that maybe being here wouldn’t be so bad.” 

 

“I changed your mind?” 

 

“Of course you did you idiot. I told you I ain’t never had no brothers before, but after meeting you, I reckon that having a big brother won’t be so bad.” 

 

He was real touched. His cheeks got all red and he choked on his beans. 

 

“You trying to kill me, Marston? Already trying to assassinate the eldest, huh?” 

 

“I promise I’ll work harder.” 

 

He finished his food and once we got the dishes washed and everything back in order, we headed back to the tent. I hopped up in bed and Arthur threw my blanket over me. He blew the candle out but before any of us went to bed, I heard him say, “Thank you, John.” 

 

I slept real good that night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Arthur isn't entirely sad in this one but I like the thought of a young John Marston caring a lot about his newly acquired big brother, and being worried about his mental health. As much as a preteen could be, mind you. 
> 
> I'm a sucker for Arthur and John brotherly love, but I love Red Dead in general feel free to message me at johnlockerooni.tumblr.com!


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur ain’t move out his bed at all today. Not to do his business or nothing. He ain’t eat, but he ain’t sleeping. I would be more worried if he weren’t always like this. I am worried. He was near bouncing off the tents when he came back from his visit to town. He always looked like he won a million bucks after he saw _Mary._ He was hardly at camp since she came into the picture. At least, he weren’t spending much time in our tent no more. I ain’t much like sleeping alone but I bet he don’t care. I bet he don’t think much of me as I think of him. He always talking about his damn woman like I give a damn. Cause I don’t. They’ve been sweet on each other for a few months, probably just under a year. Ain’t never seen Arthur so happy about nothing before her though. Besides Copper, but he always here.

He came riding into camp just before sundown, he were smiling to himself and looking at some box in his hands that I weren’t much interested in. He just went into the tent he pitched for the two of them after Dutch gave his blessing. Hosea ain’t really like her much but I think it was for the same reasons I did. She weren’t very nice to him sometimes, Arthur, not Hosea. There would be times where Uncle said something real nasty, or would lead us in one of them camp songs and Arthur would laugh and sing-along, she would look at him like he were beneath her, I reckon. All for some joke that he ain’t even say. She’s a rich girl, don’t know much about how they even met since Arthur is the exact opposite of her kind. Suppose he is kinda pretty for a fella. Maybe enough that someone like her can ignore that he’s an outlaw with no schooling. As usual, he would ignore me and go right into their tent. She weren’t in the tent she hadn’t been for days on account she went to be with her family for a time, as was the agreement between her and her mama. I thought I was finally about to have my brother back but he kept sleeping in that tent. It made me real mad so I ain’t been talking to him too much and I don’t even think he cares. I sat by the fire and watched him pop into the tent and then come back out, started walking towards me.

“Where’s Dutch and Hosea?”

“Down over by the river. Hosea near begged Dutch to go fishing with him.”

Arthur snorted at that and looked over toward the river.

“Hosea been lonely something awful as of late. Dutch better take care he ain’t plotting to feed him to them same fishes.”

I could not help but smile. Arthur really ain’t talk to me in some time and I missed it.

“Maybe if you go over there that won’t happen.”

He thought about it for a moment before he waved his hand away.

“Nah, Dutch been through worse with Hosea. I was just asking because they don’t usually leave you here alone no more.”

“Not like anyone’s able to find you to watch me.”

I saw Arthur frown at that and his eyebrows got all scrunched. He sat down next to me and pushed my leg with the tip of his boot.

“Don’t put your dirty boots on me, Morgan!” I was angry at him. He don’t get to act like he ain’t ignore me for weeks. It ain’t fair and it ain’t right.

“Hey, hey, alright I apologize will you calm down?”

When I ain’t say nothing he started talking again.

“I do something to you, Marston?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well you sure talking like I did. What’s the matter with you why you acting like that? I ain’t hardly seen you and now I just want to talk to you and you can’t even look at me.”

“You ain’t hardly seen me because you ain’t think about anyone else but Mary. That’s probably why you want to talk to me, ain’t it?”

He got real quiet and I thought about punching him. Square across his stupid lovesick face. I hope no woman ever make me this infuriating and dumb!

“I was just checking on you, John.”

I always try to be mad at Arthur but then when his feelings are hurt, and they get hurt a lot I can tell by his face, or if he is just sad, I feel bad and I ease up on him.

“You always with Mary.”

“That don’t mean I stopped caring bout you, John.”

“You don’t even come to our tent no more and she ain’t even here!”

I was making him upset. I felt bad, but then talking about it just made me angry all over again.

“Maybe I like the thought of being able to sleep alone for once. In my own tent, you know something I ain’t had since you showed up.”

“So why ain’t you pitch another one up then?”

I caught him with that and I truly was ready for a fight in that moment, but Arthur just turned to the fire and tried to not get angry because then I’d be right. He ain’t like to be right all the time, but he for damn sure hated when I was.

“You know what, it was a mistake to come over to you.”

That hurt. It hurt real bad and he knew it did.

“So go away then. Leave and go be with Mary like you always is.”

He got up and started marching over to Dutch and Hosea the quickest I ever seen him. We ain’t speak nor saw each other since then. And now here he is, sleeping in his old cot back in our bed. It was almost night and he still ain’t move and I’m getting tired just watching him. I roll over and not too long after I settle myself for bed he gets up and I hear slow footsteps out of the tent, along with the quiet clinking of glass bottles. He was about to drink. I couldn’t just leave him to be drunk alone, he was sad and sad drunk people do crazy things sometimes. Bad things. I followed him to the top of the hill and watched him settle down. I watched him down an entire bottle of whiskey, and then move to drink another.

“Arthur!”

He turned around and saw me standing there. He waved me away and kept drinking. He ain’t eat all day so the liquor was working through him fast.

“You about to make yourself you keep drinking like that.”

“You ain’t my damn mama, Marston! She died! We all know it!”

He kept a picture of her in the tent. He must’ve loved her a lot.

“What you want to watch me drink? I ain’t about to give you none, neither.”

“I don’t want any. I was just making sure you was okay.” 

“Funny, I think I did something like this earlier and what you told me to do? Go away then.”

“I’m sorry Arthur, I ain’t really much by it. I’m just…angry that you with Mary so much. I miss you, and you was my best friend here and the only one closest to my age, even though you still old.”

“Shut up.”

“I miss you sometimes, you know. That tent get real lonely sometimes.”

“Well you had me in there all day, I’m sure you wishing for me to be gone again.”

“Never.”

He stopped and his eyes got all misty. He took another swig of the bottle and breathed in hard. I weren’t trying to make him cry, so I stop talking too.

“Well Mary’s daddy wished that. He wished it on me just about every time I went to her home. He wouldn’t even shake my hand when I offered it, you know that? Still, like a fool, I offered it again and again and he never shook it. Treated me like I was a disease, some sort of sickness, and I guess, being what we are that’s true. Mary just…she just let him do it too. The constant jokes about my being illiterate, uneducated, poor, an outlaw…he would try to embarrass me at dinners by talking about topics I ain’t never heard, asking me questions about it to make me look dumber than I already am…he hated that I was with Mary.”

If he weren’t so drunk he would never told me this. But, he weren’t really talking to me. He had tears running down his face but he ain’t make no noise to show he was crying. If the moonlight weren’t out I would have never seen it.

“What you talking about, Arthur?”

“I…When I went into town that time ago, I bought a ring, I was planning to propose to her. I had it all planned out. Take her to her favorite lunch view and then ask her to marry me, I weren’t even going to have her take my last name if she ain’t want it.”

“What happened?”

“She said…she said that she could not be legally bound to me on account of her family’s reputation and my family’s reputation. Her father would never allow me to marry her and she also could not entertain the notion that she were spend the rest of her life with me in the outdoors, being complicit and dependent on my dirty money. I reckon her father told her to say all that, but it hurt all the same. A heart still breaks if it’s sad, right?”

“I reckon.”

He took another swig and there was more silence before I heard him crying. He was wiping at his eyes and he looked younger than me.

“I loved her, John. How come she still ain’t want me?”

I just hugged him, it was rare for us to do that. He cried onto my shoulder and I thought to get Hosea after he was done because he knew more about broken hearts than I did. He sniffled and tried his hardest to not sob in front of me. Arthur always looked _real_ sad when he cried, I wish I ain’t know that about him.

“I had it all set in my mind, John. Of the wedding. Every part of it.”

I just rubbed his back. I wonder if he felt my tiny hand on his large back.

“Dutch...Hosea they was -- they was going to walk me down the aisle. It’d have been right here in camp, shit, I’d have married her in a chapel if that’s what she would have wanted.”

“You keep talking about it and it’s only gonna make you sadder, Arthur. Hush.”

“Would you have wanted to be my ring-bearer?”

I ain’t want to answer him. I don’t think he was looking for one, but I ain’t want to make it look like I was ignoring him. He was in pain, and sometimes them pains inside hurt more than any gunshot or stabbing ever could. I rested my head against his arm and wrapped my own around his larger one.  He patted my arm in return, and I smiled.

“Yeah, but I would’ve dropped the rings or something.”

He chuckled, even though he was still in tears.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, John. You would’ve done fine.”

“Sure, Arthur.”

He cried some more and then he just looked tired. He was rubbing my arm now.

“Thank you, John. I’m sorry you had to bother yourself with an absolute fool like me.”

He sounded about ready to cry again and I just could not let that happen. I reckon I ain’t know much about a broken heart, but if it’s like this then I will do my best to avoid it. Right now though, my big brother needed me and I had to be there for him. He would do the same for me.

“You ain’t done nothing wrong, Arthur. Even them like us want to be loved too. It’s harder for people who wasn’t born like us to do that, I think. That’s why gangs always got a lot of fellas in it!”

He laughed and it sounded wet but I would sit with him all night and make him laugh he asked me too. We fight a lot but at the end of the day, this lump of idiot and muscle is my big brother, ain’t no changing that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANIMAL DEATH TW

Copper died today.

While Arthur was out hunting with Hosea. I was playing with him for a while, and then he started barking all types of crazy and started hopping around. I think he saw a rabbit or something, he always liked to chase them. I left him alone, Miss Grimshaw was hollerin’ for me to come eat and she was getting angrier by the minute. So I went to get some stew and I came back and he was gone! I ain’t think too much of it, he always run off, but he came back before sundown. Problem was, sundown came and Copper still weren’t back. So I went to Dutch and told him.

“Well this is troublesome, ain’t it?”

He put his hands on his hips and looked around like he could see Copper from in front of his tent. He asked me when the last time I seen him was, and I told him, and he frowned at me.

“Come on, son. Let’s go look for Copper before Arthur gets back. Grab a lantern.”

After I fetched the lantern we went searching around the camp. He couldn’t find him, and neither could I. Dutch kept whistling for him, but there weren’t no response.

“Why don’t you try, boy? He likes you best.”

“Copper! Come here boy, you know Arthur will have both our hides for this! Copper!”

We was just a little ways from camp, when we heard him whimpering.

“He sounds hurt.” Dutch whispered to me. That weren’t true, he was fine, he always fine just like his owner! But then I got to thinking about all the times Arthur weren’t okay and maybe I should have thought the same for Copper. We found him, he was lying down by a tree. He looked sick. He sounded tired. I tried not to think much of it, but then Dutch’s face fell and he quickly went to the dog’s side.

“Oh goodness boy, what’s happened to you?”

I walked over with the lantern and we found out what had Copper so ill. He were bit by a snake. Hosea said there were poison types here. How long was he here like this? I’m so sorry Copper, I should’ve kept a closer eye on you.

Dutch picked his leg up and put his mouth to it. I looked away when I realized he were sucking the poison from him. It might have been too late, though. It was too late. The whole time I just kept thinking about who was going to tell Arthur. What if Copper died before Arthur came back? Ain’t no one seen them all day, Hosea tended to enjoy hunting away from camp, what if they were miles away already? They could be in a different state entirely! I heard Dutch spit and then I was reminded that the dog weren’t dead yet, and I kept thinking that the whole time we raced back to camp. Dutch made a little bed for him, and put him on it, he even gave him a tiny blanket. Dutch ain’t never cared too much for the dog, but he ain’t hate him neither. Copper is a good boy.

“Between the two of us, John. He ain’t gonna make it past the night.”

I felt the tears in my eyes and then I heard the sound of horses riding back into camp and then the sound of Hosea laughing. Arthur! I ran out of the tent and right up to him. He was still sitting on his horse, and I was a bit scared at how big he looked up on Boadicea.

“Well if it isn’t little Johnny Marston!”

“Arthur, Copper got bit by a snake!”

I should have said something before that, it was all I could think about and it was all I could say. Arthur hopped off the horse immediately and grabbed me by my shoulders. He weren’t being rough, he were just scared.

“Where is he? Is he alright?”

Dutch was walking over to us, and in true Dutch fashion, he gave Arthur a small smile and a ringed hand on his back.

“He’s in your tent. He’s resting but son…I don’t think he’ll make it.”

Arthur nearly crumpled at the thought of his dog dying. Arthur loved that dog more than he loved himself I reckon. He let go of me and then ran over to our tent. I joined him, and by the time I got there he was already sitting next to the bed, petting Copper’s paw while the dog slept.

“Hey Copper…hey boy…it’s me!” His voice was shaky and soft. I heard him sniffle.

Copper opened his eyes and at the sight of Arthur, his tail wagged weakly and his breathing picked up slightly. Arthur smiled too and then moved to pet his back. I sat next to him and laid my head on his arm. I started crying too.

“You’re such a brave boy, you know that? You was…you was my good boy, you hear? You was the greatest boy that ever walked the earth, Copper, and I’ll miss you something awful.”

Copper whimpered slightly and Arthur shushed him while his tears poured down his cheeks. We was both crying and we was making Copper sad I think. Hosea opened the flaps of the tent and looked at me.

“Come on John, let’s leave Arthur with him for a while.”

I sniffled, “But I want to stay!”

“I know son, but Arthur—”

“Let him stay, please.” Arthur was looking over at Hosea with eyes all red and puffy, I saw Hosea dab at his eye.

“He took care of Copper too, Copper loves him. Let him stay.” He sounded defeated and sad enough that Hosea left us be. We stayed like that in the tent for the rest of the night. Arthur told Copper he loved him. Then the morning came and Copper was dead. We buried him underneath the tree on the hill that he and Arthur loved so much. Arthur even patted the dirt he was under one more time.

“At least you ain’t in pain no more.”

After the rest of the gang left the funeral we held for him, but it was just the two of us again. We held each other as we watched the setting sun with Copper for the last time. Arthur cried the entire way through.

“I’m gonna miss him, John.”

I just placed my chin on his shoulder and nodded.

“Me too, Arthur. Me too.”

We really will miss you, Copper. But it’s time for you to be a good boy in Heaven, I guess.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a lot of liberties with Copper's death. I know in canon he died of old age, at least going by Arthur's comment of him "never losing the puppy in him".


	5. Chapter 5

I guess I can’t really know for sure if I were right, but I remember the day I almost died, and I was certain Arthur cried.

It was all because of a damn lake. We was somewhere in the West, Hosea told me a million times where we was but I ain’t care much. We never was in the same spot for longer than two days it seemed. Dutch, Miss Grimshaw, and Arthur pulled off some heist at a bank. It was a good take too, seeing that Dutch had come back with enough beef to last us the week. I ain’t had steak in a long time, Arthur was happy too. But that steak probably weren’t worth it now because that heist got real hot and their faces are plastered all over that part of town.

And now we was parked next to a lake. Only for the night, Dutch kept telling me that. Sometimes Dutch nags and I don’t much like that. Arthur and Hosea say it’s because he cares. Plus , he like the sound of his voice. I reckon someone got to.

It was getting warmer, we stuck out the winter next to that town they robbed. The longest we ever went without causing too much of a fuss. Dutch saw the heist as a parting gift on account of our good behavior. I kind of miss the quiet, I think. I know Arthur does too, the camp’s been riled up something awful as of late, the grown-ups running around like chickens with they heads cut off, trying to figure out where to camp next. My brother and I took to sneaking away from camp, and we would often camp elsewhere for the night, I’d fall asleep while hearing Arthur list the constellations most nights. Or we’d just mosey down to the lake and play, or I’d watch Arthur draw whatever I asked him to. One day, we just slept by the lakeside, woke up to Arthur’s horse nibbling on his hat. I woke him up with my laughter and he punched me, then it would turn into rough-housing until one of us got tired or we knocked each other out.

Today was one of the days we felt most playful. We hadn’t gotten a chance to be alone for quite some time, Miss Grimshaw and Hosea weren’t too keen on our leaving the camp so much, so we was pretty much grounded and it were awful. We had to do the dishes every night! They left to go do some errands in town so first chance we got we raced, actually raced (Arthur started it!) to our spot. Arthur sat down first and put his bare feet in the water. He was trying to cool off a bit but I wanted to just kick his ass. It’s a feeling that overwhelms me most often whenever we’re alone, but it never works cause he’s so damn strong! Didn’t stop me from coming behind him and trying to choke him. I got the jump on him but then I heard that laugh of his and next thing I know, I was flipped over on my back looking up at Arthur’s smiling face.

“Do you yield, Marston?”

I laughed and slapped him in his face. Then those giant hands of his were moving to pick me up, I tried to fight it but then I guess I wasn’t trying hard enough. We was having fun. Arthur got up with me pinned down to his chest. He walked over to the lake and primed me for a toss.

“I’ll ask you again, seeing as you must be hard of hearing. Do you yield?”

I looked back at the water and then back at him. I took too long to answer because I was being flung in the air towards the water. I couldn’t swim. I can’t swim!

“Arth-!” I hit the water before I could scream his name. I was panicking, I thought I was too far from the shore, I couldn’t feel the sand underneath my feet, I thought Arthur was too far to come and save me. Arthur! I could make out his worried face when he saw me splashing about.

“Marston!”

I couldn’t speak. Every time I opened my mouth more water would come in. I felt my sight going black but just before it did, I saw Arthur shucking his boots and his shirt. He cupped his hands in front of his mouth and the last thing I heard was, “John!”

When I came to, we was back in our tent. Arthur was holding my hand and sleeping with his head resting on the side of my bed. I sneezed, and he woke up like a guard dog. His eyes was red and puffy, I guess I must’ve been bad off if I made him so scared as to be like this. I imagine he would have felt mighty guilty if I did die. He squeezed my hand and the first thing that came out his mouth was, “I’m sorry John…lord…I ain’t…I ain’t know you couldn’t swim, why the hell didn’t your stupid ass tell me you couldn’t swim? I nearly died of heart failure!”

I thought about it for a moment, but I didn’t want him to feel worse if I looked upset with him. Arthur never did well when one of us were upset with him. Instead I just smiled at him.

“You asked me if I yield, if I’d said yes then I would be a coward, wouldn’t I? I knew you was going to save me.”

I got punched in my arm, but he were smiling too.

“You are such an idiot.” He breathed out through laughter. He was right, I am an idiot, but he was also the idiot who threw me in the lake so I reckoned that we were even. I moved over so that he could join me on the bed and he did. He wrapped an arm around me and I motioned for the book on the barrel next to me. It were one of them dime novels he looted off a lawman for me. I ain’t get to read it yet, and his reading was better than mine anyway. He sighed and took it off the barrel and opened it.

“You better be sleep by the time I get to page ten, you hear?”

“Yeah, now read it!”

I didn’t fall asleep until page eleven!


	6. Chapter 6

Arthur had nightmares sometimes. It were a few months after they saved me from the hangman. Arthur and I were assigned tents and he put up a mighty fuss about it. I ain’t really care if he slept with me or not, I just wanted to go to bed. Dutch told him enough was enough and headed for his own tent before Arthur could something say something else. He got over it about a few days in, I think he might even started liking my company.

But then one night, I heard him wake up, breathing real hard and scared. I rolled over and he were crying. He were quiet though, like he weren’t trying to wake me up. The flap of the tent was open and I saw his chest all shiny with sweat in the moonlight. He touched at his face and then he checked his hands, he were shaking all over. He ran out of the tent like a bolt of lightning. I saw his shadow through the tent and heard him getting sick. I got out of the bed and walked over to him. I rubbed his back, even though it were gross with his sweat.

“What got you like this?”

“…don’t worry about it.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, go back in the tent, I’ll be there in a minute.”

I did not move. Arthur closed his eyes and leaned on the wood of Dutch’s tent. He breathed in and out real deep and his chest looked normal again.

“John.”

“Yea, Arthur?”

“I promise I’ll go back in the tent, please just give me a moment to collect myself.”

He weren’t mad when he said that. He weren’t really anything, just sounded more like he were just tired. I went into the tent and crawled into his bed, to see if he would let me sleep with him for the night. I had nightmares every night the first week I got picked up by the gang. Arthur would push me over so that he could have space on the bed. He ain’t talk or nothing, he just went right back to sleep, and so did I. They come less now. Tonight though, Arthur weren’t so lucky. I heard him get up and come back inside. I looked at him right in his sad blue eyes and I smiled as wide as I could.

“Ain’t your bed that one, Marston?”

“I want to sleep with you.”

“…alright.”

He settled in next to me and I made sure to hug him extra tight. He hugged me back and kissed my forehead. That was one of them rare occasions that he were truly upset. I know he wanted to sleep, but I weren’t really tired after that and I don’t think it were a good idea for him to go back to sleep just after he had that nightmare.

“…What your dream about?”

“Go to bed, John.” It were a tired warning.

“Last time I had my nightmare that y’all left me. I came back and weren’t no one here at camp.”

“I remember. I were right here when you had it.”

“I never thought you was one to get nightmares. You so big and strong looking like something right out of them penny dreadfuls you give me. Thinking that there’s even something that scare you out there terrifies me.”

“What scare you most before Dutch found you?”

“mmm….lots of things I guess. The dark, starving, being lost…my pa most of all I guess.”

That was the end of that chat. I knew what it meant, and I asked him anyway.

“…Your dream. It were about your pa, right?”

His voice sounded small when he answered.

“Mhm.”

“Your pa yelled at you too?”

Arthur chuckled but it ain’t sound happy.

“My pa…reckon he ain’t like me too much. He yelled a lot…but most nights he preferred beatings more than he did yelling.”

He sounded like that were all he were going to say about that. I weren’t too keen on making him sadder so I patted his arm and pulled the covers over us.

“I’m sorry you dreamt about that.”

“Not your fault, is it?”

“No…I guess not. But I can help you dream about nicer things. Like when you let me come with you shopping, and bought me my first bar of chocolate.”

“I ain’t buy it, you stole it while the owner was chatting me up.”

“You ever took him up on that drink?”

He laughed again.

“No! I weren’t interested, is hairline is receding that ain’t pretty.”

He had me laughing now and the air around us felt a little lighter.

“Can we go back tomorrow?”

“What for?”

“I want you to distract him while I steal some more food, and a penny dreadful. We should have lunch away from camp!”

Arthur grumbled at having to be around that store keep but even he had to admit that just the two of us having lunch out there sounded nice.

“Yeah, but we need to be up early. So get your ass to sleep, Marston!”

I gave him a dirty look that he couldn’t see because it were dark and he had his eyes closed. I just stuck my tongue out at him and took my chances with trying to sleep too.


	7. Chapter 7

Last time I shared a bed with Arthur was when I was nineteen. Abigail had just told me that she was pregnant and I reacted real bad to it. I came into Arthur’s tent that night and I woke him up out his sleep and he nearly knocked my brain clear out my head when I did. He stopped being mad when he saw me wiping at the tears in my eyes and I told him what happened and that I was afraid something awful and I thought he was about to shoo me away, tell me I was stupid for being like that. But he held his blanket up instead and told me “quit gawking and get in the damn bed John…” his voice slurred from his being woken from his coma. I jumped right into the bed and he hugged me and told me it was alright to be scared but I that I had to step up now and be a real man for that baby I had coming.

Then that baby came and we named him Jack. Now, I tried to be there for that boy when he was an infant, in the very beginning I really did. I changed about four diapers before I realized that there was nothing I wanted more than to be free, and so just before Jack turned one, I left. I came back a year later, hurt, tired, and starving like I ain’t never did before. Arthur threw a can of open beans at me and stormed off when he saw me in camp. And when he didn’t come back, I went looking for him. Abigail pretty much wished I was dead and forbade me from sleeping in our tent. Her tent. Their tent. Whatever. I was mad at Arthur. I thought lots of things after he left. He was mad because he was sleeping with Abigail, maybe they even went so far to get married, maybe that was his kid and they wanted to keep it secret. Then I got to thinking and told myself he was mad that Dutch let me back in with little complaint, jealous that it won’t never be able to do something like that. It bothered me enough that I wanted to tell him off personally. I tracked him for a week, then two weeks, then four weeks. Figured I was gone for a year they could go one more month without me there. I saw Boa hitched at a rundown shack of a house. The wood was rotting and it looked like it ain’t been lived in for years. Why would he come all the way out here to sleep in a shithole like that if there were hundreds like it just a two minutes’ ride from camp?

I hitched my horse up next to her, and the two made horse noises at each other, I think they was chatting. I walked into the house and he was just sitting at the dinner table. The entire house was disheveled, wooden boards fallen here and there, holes in the walls, mice running all over the abandoned kitchen, the furniture the most intact thing in the entire home. Intact enough to hold my brother’s fat ass that is. He had his elbow propped up, and was staring across the table. He was too still, too quiet, and I lost my nerve looking at him.

“What’re you doing out here?”

He sighed, it took a moment for him to realize I even spoke, let alone came into the house. He faced me and under his eyes were purple and his eyebags were the worst I ever seen on him. His eyes were bloodshot and red. He lifted his hand and I saw it was shaking a bit. He pointed to across the table.

“Look.”

His voice was all croaky, like he ain’t spoke in days. I, half angry and half worried, just walked over to stand behind him and I saw a streak of blood on the wall, and a bullet hole. I looked at the one on the same wall just over the other chair and saw the blood stain on the wall and another bullet hole just a bit lower than the first.

“That one that low to the ground is his.” 

“…Who?”

Arthur took a deep breath, sounded like it hurt. Like maybe he was about to cry, or he was already crying before I got here.

“Issac’s.”

He swallowed hard and it looked like he was trying to swallow a rock. I didn’t know too much about Issac, I ain’t never got to meet him and I don’t think anyone besides Hosea made much effort to see him after Arthur told us about him. I think my brother was under the impression that no one was interested in his son, but I always remembered how bright he looked whenever he came back from visiting him.

“That one right next to it his mama’s.”

I turned to the entrance and noticed that there was two graves, just outside the door and then I kicked myself for being so stupid and blinded not to see where I was. I was glad I ain’t start yelling at him. Arthur was sitting back in the chair, still staring at the wall. His face all twisted up like he was in pain. He got up from the chair and walked outside to the two headstones. There was a large mound of dirt and a tinier one that tore at my heart. Arthur was trying real hard to fight back his tears but for the first time it was a fight he was losing. His hand gestured wildly to the graves and back on his hip.

“I held him when he were born. I came up just before she gave birth and I held him first moment the doctor let me.”

He sniffed and rubbed at his eyes. They was puffy and red again and it made me feel like crying.

“I kissed him…on his little forehead. He got yellow hair like me.”

I ain’t know whether to rub his back, hug him, or hold his hand.

“Whenever I were here…I just wanted to hold him all the time”, he let out a sob and wiped at his nose, “I always kissed him on his forehead, he loved that it…it always made him smile. He loved to smile, made his mama and me laugh everytime he did it.”

I settled for rubbing his back and was glad that he didn’t try to hit me.

“I weren’t able to come up much, I had to come take care of y’all too. I wrote to her though, to Eliza and asked about how they was doing if they needed anything, if they was safe, and that I were always thinking about them. Then I would spend the next few weeks pestering the train clerks for any letters.” He chuckled at the fond memory.

“It were the only mail I got from someone that weren’t writing to Tacitus Kilgore or that had to be given to Dutch. It were for _me_ and it always had kind words written in it and when he got old enough…he would write something or draw me something he liked. I told him to do that when he were four. And he…” Arthur had took a deep breath, “he just stare up at me with them big ole brown eyes…give me the biggest smile he had and…and he would…he would wrap his little arms around my legs and hug me and say ‘okay papa’. You don’t even know how happy that would make me, John. Heh, made me…made me grin like a proper fool.”

He moved away from me and bent down. He put a hand on the tiny mound.

“He ain’t know how to talk too good because he were so little, but he were a smart boy and his drawings was always so nice. Whenever I draw I think about him…my little Issac…my son…”

He started sobbing again and I wasn’t sure if I should kneel with him, but I sat down to make him feel comfortable.

“After they died I asked myself you know….I asked myself every day…what kind of a monster would murder a woman and child for ten dollars?”

I was thinking of an answer, but then he kept talking and I knew that he ain’t really want one.

“But then, should I be mad at the monster who shot my son and his mother, or the monster that left a woman and a child alone in the first place?”

“You ain’t a monster, Arthur.”

He smiled but it was angry. He was mad now, and sad, and everything in between. He nodded.

“Nope, but I were worse. I chose Dutch and the gang. I chose _freedom_ John, just like you did when you went gallivanting about and left your baby and wife alone.”

And then I found my anger again. I looked at him, pissed right off for his comment, like he was leading up to this.

“Arthur I sincerely hope you ain’t make us come all this way just to give me some backwards talk about my family.”

“No…no…but seeing you mosey on up to camp, asking for a hot meal when you abandoned your son, us, I just couldn’t help but be reminded of when I did the same thing and the price I had to pay for it. I can tell you right now that it’s far more than ten dollars.”

“I just…I needed to be away Arthur!”

“Away from what, John?! Away from that baby you made a bastard while you was gone? Away from the group of people that raised you and saved you from swingin’ before you even grew a single chest hair? That frighten you, John? That scare you into thinking that you was better off alone?”

Arthur was younger than I am now when he had Issac, but I wasn’t him. I wasn’t excited about being a father and I didn’t ask to be one.

“Maybe.”

Arthur didn’t like hearing that, not one bit. Tears was falling from his eyes but he was past gloominess and was now plain mad. I didn’t know if he was mad at me, himself, or both, but I didn’t care. I wish he weren’t crying, it makes it harder to argue with him. To be upset with him.

“Lord why are you so stupid, John? You left for a YEAR and came back and you still had Abigail and Jack waiting for you. Hell, _I_ waited for you, John! Abigail mad as all hell but she still waited, and we took care of them in your place. I ain’t have no one do that for me whenever I left Issac and Eliza. I was stupid to think that they’d be okay somehow without no protection. I ain’t even leave them a gun for safety. I came every few months to see them and now I wish that I’d just stayed with them. Maybe we’d all be dead or they’d be alive I don’t know, but what I do know that I ain’t have the privilege to see my baby _die.”_

Arthur’s crying got bad and he stopped talking to steady himself. At this rate he was going to cry himself right into dehydration. I was angry with him, about ready to throttle him, but it sounded like something he’d been wanting to say while I been gone and I can’t say that I didn’t miss him enough to let him have this.

“I don’t know when he started walking. I just come up and he were running to come hug me. I don’t even rightly know when he started speaking either, but I was floored when he called me ‘papa’ for the first time. It was always hard, John, lord it was always so hard to leave them but I did because I cared about y’all more. Because I enjoyed robbing banks and trains and running from law, because I enjoyed being able to do whatever I wanted. I’ll tell you what, Dutch never raised more arrogant and selfish boys than us…how we got these two poor women pregnant and left them with the burden of raising a child while we rode off into the sunset. Except you still got your family, and I don’t got mine no more.”

Arthur’s hand rubbed at Issac’s dirt mound and whispered brokenly, “Papa’s sorry, Issac. Papa’s so so sorry…”

I felt like he should be alone for this, but then I remembered how he didn’t push my hand away when I rubbed his back. I was the reason he was like this, the least I could do is sit with him through it. If he really didn’t want me here he would have told me so. I rubbed his shoulder. They shook every time he sniffled.

“I think all the time about what happened…I wonder if he were scared or if he tried to save his mama. She was a fine woman, John, too good for the likes of me. I wonder if he were in pain or if…if they was merciful when they killed them. I hope they was sent to God instead of shoved in the dirt like nothing…”

“Arthur it’s…it’s alright.”

“I came here before, after we learned you was gone. I came here and I just kept asking myself if they missed me the way I missed you while you was away. If Eliza cried like Abigail did, if Issac was like Jack too young to know anything but smart enough to know that his daddy were gone and cried because his mama were too.”

I tried not think about how they reacted after I ran away. I nearly went back three times the first few weeks I was gone. But I enjoyed being alone, and being free to do what I wanted as I wanted. I hadn’t realized that Arthur was the same. He nearly collapsed from all the crying he was doing and so I quickly moved to hold him, and move him into a clumsy hug. He was real ugly from crying, but I figured that wasn’t the time for a joke like that. It wasn’t much a time for words anymore and so we just sat while I held him and he cried. I watched the setting sun the entire time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that I wrote most of these chapters about John being thirteen and fifteen so far but this one is still when John was young and Arthur was a bit younger and my late addition father's day submission!


End file.
